There are Nargles in Here!
by Rosie O'Reilly
Summary: Submission 3 for the QLFC. James, Teddy and their gang trap Lysander and Rose in a closet.


His mom was one of my mom's friends. The Second Wizarding War was how they knew each other. We'd met a few times at some Christmas parties for the Ministry my parents always took us to. I'd seen him around school before. I'd passed him in the library a few times before, as well. But never had I ever been trapped with him in a room for hours on end.

"Rose?"

"What do you want?" I snapped at him, still irritated that he hadn't managed to help me come up with a solution for our situation…even though he was three years younger than me… and I was in my fifth year. Still, weren't first years supposed to be smart? I mean, my mom and dad had helped save the Philosophers Stone from the most evil wizard of all time. But what about me? I was supposed to have been a genius by now. In my parents fifth year, they were trying to figure out how to try and figure out how to defeat the same dark wizard they had hindered in their first year.

"I—I just have to go to the bathroom." He timidly stated.

I huffed. _Stupid first years. Always doing something to ruin my day. _"Well, you're going to have to hold it. The Alohomora spell isn't working. Someone's charmed this door so not just a simple spell can be used. And you, sitting there doing nothing isn't helping anybody!"

"But this place is probably full of nargles! Look at all these Christmas decorations! There's mistletoe in here!"

"Hey, kid, you'll be fine. And what the heck is a nargles?"

"Oh, it's this animal that gets inside your brain and—"

"On second thought, never mind." I chuckled. "Soo… how do you propose we get outta here?"

"Ooh, I think I know! This kid, Creevey, I think was his last name, showed me how to pick a door… His dad was born into a Muggle family, so he knows everything about non-magical stuff."

"Pick a lock, you mean?"

"Yeah! That was it!"

"Oh, my mom said something about having to do that once in a similar situation. What do we need again?"

"Umm… something small and sharp… If I'm remembering correctly."

"Hmm… I'm sure we could find something in here…" I mused walking around and started picking through things. "I'm not finding anything. What about you, uh, kid?" I struggled to remember his name.

"Lysander. Lysander Scamander."

"Oh, I knew that."

"No, you didn't. No one really ever knows my name. I have a twin, y'know."

"I know. My parents used to drag us to Ministry Christmas parties. I've met your mom at those a few times."

"She always talks about your family, Rose. Especially about your parents and their childhood."

"That's because they fought together in the Second Wizarding War. My parents talk about everyone from their childhood like they were gods."

"What? Your family's the one who saved everybody though."

"Yeah. So I've been told. Enough about my family. I'm sick of hearing about how awesome they are."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. No one realizes how much it bugs me. Did you find anything?"

"No. Hey, wait. How are you keeping your hair like that?"

"I have little pins in it." I said touching the back of my head, where half of my hair was pinned. My face lit up in realization. "Here. That should do it."

"Thanks. Shouldn't take long, I don't think. Hey! Where'd the lock go?!"

"I dunno. It was there when I was trying to Alohomora it. Oh, it's up there. Here, climb on my shoulders."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I used to do this all the time with my younger cousins. Just get on my shoulders; I'd like to get out of here." I crouched down so he could get on easier. "Ow, ow, hey, watch it!"

"Sorry! I can't reach it, it keeps moving!" He was standing on my shoulders now, and kept stepping on my face or hair.

"Well, stick the pin in the lock and maybe it'll quit moving!" I heard snickering on the other side of the door. "I can hear you, y'know! Let us out, Albus! This isn't funny anymore!"

"I'm not Al. He'd never think of trapping his poor cousin. He'd be too scared of the consequences. And of course it is! It's always funny when it comes to making you mad. You sound like Aunt Ginny when she gets teased by Uncle George."  
"That's because I'm her daughter! Now let us out! Ouch, Lysander, quit stepping on me!"

"I can't help it, the lock keeps moving."

"Hey, I can see McGonagall coming. She's just down the next corridor, let's get going guys!"

_Ooh, that James! I should have known it was him. Albus is too shy to do something like this in school, at least. _

"James, come—oof!" I tumbled out the door, sending Lysander flying into the wall in front of the closet we were trapped in.

"Hello, Ms. Weasley. And what might we be doing in a storage closet during class?" McGonagall questioned.

"Oh, I, um…" I glared at the retreating figures of James, Teddy and their friends. "Well, James and Teddy locked us in there. We tried and tried to get out, but they kept moving the lock on us and Alohomora wouldn't work!"

"I see. Well since all of you were out of class, that's fifty points from Gryffindor. 10 from each of you. And 10 from Ravenclaw. Now would you please take Mr. Scamander up to the infirmary? He's going to need a healing spell."

"You're just going to let them get away with this? No punishment or anything?"

"Seeing as I did not actually see them lock the pair of you in the closet, I cannot punish them directly. However, I can take your word, and question them at a later date. Now, I suggest you get your friend here to the infirmary and go straight to class afterwards."

"But—"

"Would you like detention for a week, Ms. Weasley?"

"No, ma'am." I mumbled, glaring at the ground.

"Well then, have a nice rest of the day." She said, sweeping down the corridor and out of my sight. I sighed, placed a light levitation spell on Lysander and then proceeded to the infirmary.

A few hours later, after classes were done for the day, I went back up to visit Lysander. "Hey, kid. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. A little discombobulated. I told you there was nargles in the Christmas decorations.

I laughed lightly and ruffled his hair, careful to avoid the recently healed gash. "I'm sure there was, Lysander. I'm sure there was."


End file.
